


Lifetimes

by KafkaBlack



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Feels, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Nightmares, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-15 19:17:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15419781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KafkaBlack/pseuds/KafkaBlack
Summary: This is a short piece set in an AU, New York, and the destined encounter between Jesse Mcree and Hanzo Shimada. A lot of mental musings between the two characters of lives long lost and lived.





	Lifetimes

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! This is my first fanfic EVER! McHanzo is life and I can't seem to have enough! Lol. This has not been beta read (uh! cause I don't know how and who and where!). I really hope you like it!
> 
> See the end notes for more rambling!
> 
> P.S Just to set the mood, I highly recommend listening to "The Matador" by The White Buffalo (cause that's what I was listening to while writing this piece)

JESSE

It was an unusually cold, crisp autumn day in Brooklyn. The sky was already turning a myriad of soft pink and purple. Jesse was walking down Clark Street with a purpose. His spurs jangled along as he took wide strides, headed down the never ending street. He finally reached the end to walk into the all-encompassing arms of the Manhattan skyline painted against the horizon. The Brooklyn Bridge loomed to his right, standing tall and proud, a true pillar of endurance and strength. This was his happy place, the Brooklyn Promenade. Every time he experienced turmoil, he would find himself standing here looking at the Hudson River below him and being humbled by the titan called Manhattan. Today had been especially bad. He had woken up earlier, covered in a cold sweat. The demons of his past have haunted him relentlessly and today was a little bit more intense than others.

Jesse had had a rough childhood. The trailer park he grew up in had scarred him for life. From an early age he had been left to fend for himself. The quickest way to earn a pretty penny was to join a gang. He figured that it was his only hope for survival. But that all changed when he ran into Gabriel Reyes. Ex-cop, mean temper, and his only chance at a good life. Reyes took him in and raised him like his own son. For that he will be eternally grateful. Today was the anniversary of the day Jesse’s world had come crashing down. The day he had lost Reyes.

Jesse leaned against the rails wishing for the skyline that lay before him, to consume him. He was melancholy and the cold bite of the air was refreshing. He let out a sigh and thrust his hands into his pockets, fumbling to find his lighter. He bit down on a cigarillo and took in a deep inhale of the toxic sweet fume that he had just lit.

 

HANZO

_Brother!_  What a farce. His whole life had been one elaborate lie. Who was he?  _Redemption_. From what? What was he doing?  _Honor_. Family? Self? Tradition?  _Brother! What a farce_.

All these years spent agonizing his one decision, or lack thereof, had crippled him. What was he doing here in New York? Who was this man he had just met? Genji was supposed to be dead. Seems like the only person who died that day was him. He could not recognize the face, calmly and warmly smiling at him and telling him how happy he was to reconnect.  _Reconnect. You’re supposed to be dead!_

This wasn’t his first meeting with Genji. He had met Genji for the first time 5 months ago. Genji found him kneeling by his grave in Hanamura. It had been the 10th year anniversary and like a scene from a horror movie, there stood Genji, in the flesh, in front of him. A ghost?! Or worse!? It had knocked the wind out of Hanzo’s chest. He had forgotten how to breathe. Paralyzed, he stared. He stared at his Brother, afraid to blink lest he disappear. The sound of Genji’s voice drew him back to reality from his catatonic state. He tried to speak but only a weak gasp escaped his dry, cracked lips.

Genji had been spoiled rotten by his parents. He was the younger child and had no responsibilities. Hanzo was supposed to be the heir. Hanzo was supposed to be the obedient one, the mature one, the responsible one. Genji was allowed to be anything he wanted. Genji was frivolous and his parents, soon realized, would be the ultimate shame to the family. The Shimadas were a proud family. They had an image to uphold in society and Genji was on the fast track to tarnishing it. Eventually, he was disowned by his family and Hanzo was unable to do anything. Shortly after disowning Genji, the Shimadas received word that he had been in a terrible accident and had perished. Hanzo blamed himself for the death of his brother. The brother he had loved unconditionally and the brother he had failed to protect.  _Brother! What a farce._

Hanzo left home shortly after receiving the news. He was hurt, guilty, tormented and above all resentful of his family. He was resentful of himself, of what he had become, of  _who_ he had become. He knew one thing in all surety; he never wanted to be like his parents and he would never become the man they had groomed him to be. So he left. Searching for himself, searching for repentance, searching for a reason to exist. Taking his own life would be far too easy to assuage his feelings. He had to live! He had to live each day as a reminder of his cowardice and to carry with him the burden of Genji. He had done so for 10 years. Until the day Genji stood in front of him with arms wide open. Now he was lost again. He was filled with anger and frustration.  _Brother! What a farce._

 

JESSE

New York had been the obvious choice for Jesse. He could be lost in the sea of people and leave the ghosts of his past behind. New York, the Big Apple, the city that never sleeps; just like him. Every time he would close his eyes, the nightmares would take over. Some familiar and some from another life time. He was always amused when he’d dream about wars waged against robots. He dressed cartoonish in a Cowboy costume, putting bullets in bodies of flesh and metal. These dreams always left him exhausted in the morning, with a fleeting sensation that he was missing something,  _someone._  The dream always ended with a golden ribbon in his hand.

As Jesse smoked his cigarillo, he pondered over inane things to keep himself distracted. The memory of Reyes was too painful, even after all these years. Pain! Just like those dreams that left him with a numb ache in his chest. Go figure!

 

HANZO

Hanzo walked out of the coffee shop feeling numb. Genji had hugged him goodbye and left after making dinner plans for the following night. He was excited to finally introduce the two most important people in his life to Hanzo, his girlfriend and his spiritual mentor. Angela had saved Genji and given him a second chance at life. Funny how those Doctor Patient tropes come true sometimes. Genji had met Zenyatta when he was travelling in Nepal. Zenyatta had helped Genji come to terms with his new life and bury the past and move on. He had helped him find inner peace and tranquility. Genji was extremely excited to finally introduce his brother Hanzo to them.  _Brother! What a farce._

Hanzo made his way over to the Brooklyn Promenade. The warmth of the cup of tea he held was a stark contrast to the chill in the air. His hiked up his jacket to his chin as he made his way towards the rail. The sight of the Manhattan skyline always grounded him and this was the closet he came to feeling peace. He took his place a few feet away from this tall man in a Stetson hat and smoking a cigarillo. Even though he didn’t smoke, he craved for the second hand poison coming out of the stranger’s mouth. After a deep inhale, he allowed himself to be lulled by the muted cacophony around him. The chill of air nicked the freshly shaven sides of his head. He winced a little but felt happy to feel the cold. At least he felt something. In stark contrast to his casual attire, he had decided to wear  _the_  golden ribbon in his hair today. The last and only relic from Hanamura. Genji had always loved that ribbon whenever Hanzo wore it. It was his way of making amends. A tiny gesture.  _Brother! What a farce._

* * *

Two weary, forlorn men stood beside each other unbeknownst of the many lifetimes they have spent together. Forlorn but beside each other. The cowboy, with his hat pulled down and smoking his second cigarillo, is distracted by the flash of gold in the corner of his eyes. And that’s when he sees  _him._ There he stands stoic and unwavering in the cold autumn wind. He can’t seem to look away. That numb ache in his chest creeps up again. He is hit by a sudden wave of sadness and this leaves the cowboy dumbfounded. The other man turns to see the cowboy staring...  _at him_. Usually he would ignore and walk away. But he can’t seem to look away. He sees the pain and longing in the deep brown eyes lit by the warm glow of cigarillo. He finds himself drowning in those eyes. He feels a sudden rush of warmth encompass him and fill the void in his soul. Both men stand there lost in the others presence, overcome by a sense of familiarity, a lifetime worth of warm embraces and sweet whispers. The sun sets slowly behind the Manhattan skyline, and blankets the city in darkness. Time stands still for the two men unbeknownst of their destiny, of their love. The Cowboy and the Archer in a lifetime past.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it. Feedback of any and all kinds are deeply appreciated. Kudos and comments would totally make my day! [awkward laugh]
> 
> I left the end a little open ended in case you want me to add more to this story. Or we can leave it as is. If you have any ideas, or suggestions I would love to hear it! :)


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